


And now, his heart beats inside your chest

by SheyShocked



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Gen, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Original Character(s), Past Markus/Simon (Detroit: Become Human), Post-Android Revolution (Detroit: Become Human), Simon Sacrificed His Life For Markus (Detroit: Become Human), Violent Android Revolution (Detroit: Become Human), Violent Markus (Detroit: Become Human)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-16 15:53:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29827311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SheyShocked/pseuds/SheyShocked
Summary: Without Simon’s sacrifice, Markus would have died, and their cause with him. But sometimes, living with the consequences turned out to be much, much harder…Sal is a CX100, a household android woken up during the revolution. Once the battle for Detroit has been won and half of Jericho’s leadership has unfortunately perished, Sal got for his bravery on the battlefield the unique opportunity to work with Markus, his idol. But he isn’t what he expected him to be. He’s bitter and resentful towards him, always finding flaws in his plans. One day, Sal decides he’s had enough and wants to know why their leader despises him so much.
Relationships: Markus & North (Detroit: Become Human), Markus (Detroit: Become Human) & Original Character(s), North (Detroit: Become Human) & Original Character(s)
Kudos: 2





	And now, his heart beats inside your chest

Today of all days see,

how the most dangerous thing is to love,

how you will heal and you'll rise above.

Crowned by an overture bold and beyond,

ah, it's more courageous to overcome.

(Gang of Youths: Achilles Come Down)

“Have you completely lost your mind, Markus?!”

Sal slammed his hands down on the war table, bright blue eyes filled with desperation set on their leader, who couldn’t be bothered to even look him in the face. Of course it frustrated him to no end, but right now, he had more pressing matters to worry about. He had to prevent what he knew would end up being a massacre. He can mourn that he’s ignored by the man he had the most respect for later, in the privacy of his own room.

“We can’t attack that military base! It’s packed with soldiers, we don’t have the men nor tech to succeed! Why don’t we choose a more careful approach instead?”

Markus rolled his eyes, making it perfectly what he thought about Sal’s contribution to this topic. He never smirked, never sneered, but his expression of quiet disdain was setting the other man’s blood on fire. He used to admire him. Well, who didn’t – great Markus, the savior of their kind, for some the rA9 himself (even though he always denied those claims). He was one of the biggest role models not only for Sal but for every deviant to ever exist. But oh man, did he make it hard to get along with him on a personal level.

The strangest thing was that not everyone had the same problem. North seemed to be on agreeable enough terms with him, as was most of their brothers in arms. Just not Sal. Never Sal.

“You and your ‘careful approach’, Sal. Humans won’t wait for us to do the first step – we have to act now, or else we won’t get another chance!” North gave him a slightly scolding look, so he gentled his tone with a sigh. “But you have a point. I will try to find a solution where there would be the least casualties possible. Now – dismissed. I have to think this through.”

Sal grit his teeth, and North, without a doubt sensing trouble, took him by the elbow and dragged him out of the room. In the end, he supposed he managed to achieve what he wanted (for now at least), but Markus’ harsh tone still hurt. It was so effing stressful to be disregarded on a daily basis by one’s hero.

North seemed to pick up on his irritation, and she said, voice barely above a whisper: “Hey. I know Markus can be a dick sometimes. Try not to take it personally.”

He arched one eyebrow at her, hands sent into motion by his frustration. It always used to happen when he was this upset, and he hated it. “How am I not supposed not to take it personally? He criticizes every suggestion I come up with! Why did you allow me into the inner circle when you have no interest in hearing my opinion in the first place?”

North sighed. She looked so tired of this, Sal almost pitied her. “It’s not about you. It never was.” His puzzled glance made her elaborate, even though it still made little sense to him. “Markus doesn’t have a problem with your point of view. Trust me, if anything, he appreciates having a voice of reason on our side once again after…” After the first ones passed away. Sal was aware. “The real issue is you are a CX100.”

“I mean, obviously? What has it to do with anything?” he stared at her dumbfounded, hands instinctively reaching up to touch his strawberry blond hair, ruffling them like bird feathers. “I thought Markus fought for us all, including household assistants.”

“Oh, don’t get your knickers in a twist, he doesn’t care about you being a nanny. None of that crap matters anymore, anyway. It’s… well, you remind him of someone.”

Can’t say Sal was surprised. His design was fairly popular amongst humans, god knows why (Sal had his suspicions, and it was frankly disgusting), and used for numbers of different android models – CX100, some AP700, and also the last but not the least nowadays quite obsolete PL series. Wide array of men one could confuse him with.

He snorted a laugh. “Tons of people look like me, North. We’re hardly unique in our appearance. It’s quite an art not to remind others of someone else they’ve already met.”

“Yeah, I know. But in this case, it’s a little bit more complicated,” she heaved a sigh before looking around with her large eyes the color of long since dried blood on fabric and scanning for any sign of a potential intruder. Once she was sure there was no one nearby, she motioned Sal to come closer, so her whisper didn’t escape his ear, knowing his audio processor got damaged by an explosion during the battle and it sometimes made him unable to process hushed voices.

“Markus used to have a lover, who was a PL600. Mind the past tense.” She paused, looking at the tip of her shoes. “His name was Simon and he didn’t survive the night when we freed ourselves.”

Well. Sal had no idea what to say – he was expecting a lot, from simple antipathy to something far more complex, but this? This was beyond words.

“Oh. I see. Did he die during the battle?”

She shook her head. “Worse. He gave Markus his thirium pump regulator to save him. He sacrificed his own life for him. It was necessary, of course, but… I think Markus never forgave himself for what happened. And you have the same face, the same body and voice as Simon. I get why he can be sometimes such a prick about it. Just give him time. I’m sure he’ll come around eventually.”

They stopped talking after this, Sal becoming lost in the thought. North chose it as the perfect moment to friendly pat his shoulder and take her leave, abandoning him in the awfully quiet hallway. And perhaps it was better that way. He needed to be alone for a while.

He glanced over his shoulder at the wall marked with numerous bullet holes, but more importantly, the scratched door they just walked out of, discussing if he should go back there. Nah. Not now. He needs to think this through first. Once he does, he’ll return to have a chat with their oh so gracious leader, he decided in the end and hurried away.

***

That’s how he found himself staring at the door of the war room half an hour later, looking for the courage to knock. He chickened out the first few times, but after a while, he finally managed to bring himself to do it.

“Markus? It’s me, Sal. Can I come in, please?”

The silence on the other side of the door was almost deafening to his ears. He waited, but when there was no answer, he was ready to give up. Maybe it would be wiser for him to try again later… but then, all of the sudden, a hushed, carefully moderated voice broke through the wall of stillness: “The door’s open.”

Sal, feeling almost trapped in some sort of a deep trance all of the sudden, obediently stepped back inside the meeting room. Markus hunched over the war table looked exhausted, as if he hasn’t entered stasis in a week straight. It made Sal worry, regardless of their quarrels. He still cared about him as a person, not a mere symbol of revolution.

“What do you need? Make it quick, I have so much work to do,” Markus said, disturbing him from his thoughts.

“Right, I won’t take long… just wanted to say – I know about Simon.” Their leader flinched as if he got struck by a bolt of lightning, his unique, heterochromatic eyes narrowing in a way that betrayed his intent – fight or flight. Fight or flight. But before he could act upon those impulses, Sal resumed his speech, taking away his only chance to run away from this conversation. “And I’m so sorry about what happened. I can’t imagine how hard it must be to lose someone so dear and then see his face around daily like a ghost. But I’m not Simon. I’m not trying to replace him either. The only thing I want is to fight for a better future for our people. Hope that’s fine by you.”

Markus just stared at him blankly for a minute, making a sliver of doubt enter Sal’s galloping heart. Did he cross the line? Was Markus about to throw him out, not only from the room but also from the New Jericho? Before he could go mad with worry, their almighty leader collapsed on a nearby chair. He didn’t cry, only covered his face with his hands.

“Fine by me,” he finally uttered, voice breaking on words. Sal felt bad for him, wanted to comfort him as his original programming dictated, however, he wasn’t entirely sure it would be welcomed. So he just gave him a stiff nod.

“Thanks. I… do you want me to leave you alone now? Or would you rather talk about it?”

Markus shook his head. “I’m fine, thank you. You may go.” Sal did turn around to leave, but when he was about halfway to the door, their leader stopped him. “Sal? I apologize. I never meant to be so harsh towards you. Some days are just… more difficult than others, I guess.” He paused, drawing in a long sigh. “You sometimes even sound like him, you know. Not only the voice but your opinions as well. None of that is your fault, though. Should have figured that out sooner. I will try not to let my emotions get the better of me ever again.”

“I appreciate the thought. And I’m sorry for your loss. But remember that part of him, his very heart, lives on within you. And there’s no doubt he would be proud of what you’ve achieved so far.”

He didn’t get an answer, and he didn’t even need any. That sad, watery smile Markus gave him as his eyes slowly filled up with tears to the brim was worth a thousand words.

**Author's Note:**

> Me to my brain: “Okay, I don’t feel like writing Simarkus right now. I need a break. How about some fluffy Luthara, or perhaps Echo and Ripple?”  
> My brain: “May I offer you some angst in these trying times?”  
> Me: “Brain, noooo!” XD
> 
> Well, that’s basically how it went down. OCs aren’t usually my cup of writing tea (although I enjoyed this short piece with Sal quite a bit), but this was such an interesting concept I just had to explore it. Hope you liked the result. Thanks for reading, guys, and let’s hope I will come up with something fluffier next time!


End file.
